So I know that I promised updates about my Marrakech and Essaouira adventures two weeks ago...sorry about that. :) This time my blog negligence was actually intentional; I've had a string of tests and mid-terms (several of my profs decided to give tests the week before mid-terms as well as actual mid-terms, which I was not a fan of) and papers and such, so I've been trying to use my time wisely. Miraculously, I have no classes today, so I thought I'd take a study break and update you about my time and travels here in Morocco.

(in Marrakech)

The trip to the south was an interesting one, to be sure: we took an overnight bus Wednesday night and got to Marrakech at about six in the morning. Luckily we found a security officer who showed us the way through the back alleys to our hotel, where we napped for a few hours until the surrounding businesses opened. (To those of you who have expressed concern about my travel safety, rest assured: everything in Morocco is found in the sketchy back alleys. We weren't being reckless, just Moroccan, haha.) We stayed near the Djemaa el Fna, which is sort of the main square/marketplace in Marrakech. It's located at the center of a series of sketchy back alleys where you find shops selling everything from Berber rugs and tajine pots to musical instruments and fake Gucci bags, and the Djemaa el Fna itself is a mix of stands selling fruits and fruit juices, as well as dates, almonds, and other such products, a variety of restaurants and a smattering of snake charmers and monkey trainers. It's a bit touristy, but quite a sight to behold. We spent the day walking around the city and devouring enormous quantities of food and freshly-squeezed oranges. It was nice to be in a part of Morocco that was actually sunny.

(We found a Haagen Dazs in Marrakech. Yummmm.)

The next day, we took a bus to Essaouira, a semi-nearby resort town on the Atlantic. Everyone--Moroccans and internationals alike--told us that Essaouira was the most beautiful town in Morocco, but our initial impression was none-too-favorable. We were hassled from the moment we stepped off the bus by men carrying business cards to various hotels, who wanted money to take us or tell us the way to a place to stay. Unfortunately, we couldn't get to our hotel by taxi and since we weren't exactly sure how to get there (we'd planned to take a cab), we had to pull out my guidebook to examine a map. Nothing screams "I"M A TOURIST!" like pulling out a guidebook, it seems, so we got hassled some more. One man followed us almost all the way to our hotel, asking for money for "showing us the way"--though we didn't follow him and we told him to go away in English, French, and Arabic--and another man called us names and told us to "go back to America" when we wouldn't give him money.

(At the beach in Essaouira.)

Eventually, however, we did find our hotel, and the trip was much more fun after we put down our bags. I did have one unfortunate incident left for the day, though: I got pooped on by a seagull, haha. I didn't find it funny at the moment, but I can't help but smile as I type about it now. The ocean was beautiful, and we had fun walking around the medina and looking at the shops. As usual, we enjoyed the food; most of the group chowed down on seafood, and Lauren and I made another exciting back-alley discovery--the best Moroccan restaurant we've found yet, where we enjoyed a three-course meal (I had harira, couscous with chicken and veggies, and chocolate mousse) for about 50 dirhams, which is a bit over six U.S. dollars. Amazing. It is quite possible that I will be to cheap to ever shop again in the States, after getting used to Moroccan prices. Anyway, we took another overnight bus back to Ifrane Saturday night. Unsurprisingly, it was raining when we returned. (Read: this is the rainiest winter Ifrane has had in over 50 years. I'm so glad I could be here for that, after one of the rainiest autumns in Arkansas last semester. :D) My good luck continued when my backpack rolled out of the luggage hold on the bus and landed in a large puddle, forcing me once again to take part in that most-dreaded chore of washing laundry. But all in all, we had a really fun trip, and I'd love to go back to Marrakech and Essaouira, especially now that I know some of the ins-and-outs of the place. :)

(If only I'd had a slingshot...hahaha.)

Since the trip, I've mostly been studying and such. I did go to the souk (weekly outdoor market) in Ifrane on Sunday, where I was able to stock up on some fruits and veggies, not to mention buy popcorn (the first I've had in two months!), so I was excited. I've also discovered a delightful little restaurant in Ifrane that sells tiramisu and chocolate muffins in addition to yummy tajines, which was an exciting find. Despite the nasty Ifrane weather (which is rumored to be lovely in summer, when all the surrounding areas are scorching, but has been rainy, cold, and windy for almost my entire stay so far), I have fallen in love with Morocco in my time here, and would recommend that you all visit if you ever have the chance. I know I'll want to come back.

(The yummy restaurant in Essaouira.)

Now that I've updated you on my life and adventures, I'd like to ask you to do something for me. I learned at Bible study last night that, over the past week or so, several foreign Christians have been forced out of the country on charges of proselytizing, which is illegal here in Morocco. A large portion of those who were evacuated operated an orphanage called the Village of Hope. They honestly thought they were complying with regulations, but were interrogated and deported with almost no time to pack or to say goodbye to the children. Orphans have a particularly hard lot in Islamic countries, where, even if adopted, they don't have the same rights as biological children, and even the Muslim Moroccans who worked with these kids got kicked off the premises, so there is not a single familiar face taking care of them right now. Please be in prayer for the children, for those who were deported, and for those who may still be deported. Its a rough situation, especially since Morocco has been considered a moderate nation which encourages peaceful relations between peoples of different faiths. Keep the people of this beautiful country in your prayers.

Here's a link to an article about the orphanage workers who were deported, if you're interested: http://www.christianpost.com/article/20100309/christians-expelled-forced-to-abandon-33-foster-kids-in-morocco/

My apologies for neglecting my blog...school has gotten busier, and I seem to have gotten lazier. :) Also, I haven't been on any exciting trips lately, nor have I blown up any more appliances, so I didn't have anything pressing to write about. However, I'm out of school for the rest of the week, so I'll be leaving in a few hours for Marrakech and Essaouira in southern Morocco; hopefully I'll have more adventures to share when I return from that trip.

Life for the last few weeks has mostly been the normal cycle of sleeping, eating, going to class, doing homework, procrastinating homework, and spending time with friends. My classes seem to be going well--though it's hard to tell, since my only grades in several of my courses come solely from the mid-term and the final, which I haven't taken yet--and the only noteworthy experience I can think of is my joining the club swim team at AUI, and being asked after my first practice to represent the team at a meet in Lebanon over Spring Break. The invitation blew me away, since I hadn't been to a swim practice in about three years, but I was flattered that they thought I could get back into shape in time. Unfortunately, I'm already heading to France and Spain for Spring Break, so I had to turn down the Lebanon trip (which probably would have been too expensive anyway), but I'm still so surprised to have been invited that I get excited just thinking about what it might have been like. The less-exciting part of being back in the water is that my shoulder started popping in and out of place again, so I've been doing my part to keep the Icy Hot folks in business for the last couple of days.

Despite my lack of exciting news, I'm still very much enjoying my time in Ifrane--especially now that the sun is shining again--and I can't believe time is going by so quickly. Happily, I haven't been very homesick (or any other kind of sick, thankfully!) so far, but I'd still love to hear from all of you if you get the chance to drop a letter in the mail, send me a Facebook or Skype message, or shoot me an email! The postal service here is rather pokey, unfortunately, but for those of you who I've promised letters, they're on the way (just a bit slow to arrive). I look forward to hearing from you all soon, and hope to post more frequent and interesting blogs in the future. :)

So, unsurprisingly, I've been slow about getting around to adding another post. In my defense, my internet has been fairly unreliable lately when I've tried emailing and Skyping, so I wasn't too keen to type a whole blog post only to have it delete itself. Aside from my procrastination, life is going well; my classes have been good so far, and I had another enjoyable weekend. But I am getting ahead of myself...

(hiking through the cedar forests)

Most of last week passed quite uneventfully: I went to class, did homework, spent looong periods of time eating dinner with friends in order to avoid doing homework. The usual. I also tried running a bit last week, and discovered that my body was not adjusting to the altitude quite as effectively as I'd thought; the slightest hill set me huffing and puffing. It was not altogether good for my self-esteem, but I hope to improve as the semester progresses. Hopefully the pool repairs will be finished soon. :)

The only event of any real importance that happened during the week occurred Friday morning as I was getting ready for class. I had just showered and dressed, and had begun to blow-dry my hair (my roommate had been letting me use her hairdryer every morning, so I wouldn't have to buy one) when all of a sudden, it started shooting out sparks. I yelped as one or two landed on my arm, then started panicking as the cord to the hair dryer caught fire. I hurriedly unplugged it, opened the bathroom door, and starting fanning out the thick, black smoke with a towel. When the cloud had cleared, I shakily inspected the hair dryer to figure out what had happened. It seems that the wire in the cord had somehow become disconnected from the machine and had overheated, melting the insulation and starting the fire. It was a fine way to start the morning, I can assure you, but luckily my roommate was very understanding, and not the least bit upset that I'd fried her hair dryer. She even tried to talk me out of buying her a new one, which made the whole ordeal seem less overwhelming.

(coming down from the mountains, looking out at the farmlands)

On Saturday, I had a lovely outing with the Explorer's Club, a club I've joined here for hikers and outdoor enthusiasts. Our first trip was a hike through the mountains to the (somewhat) nearby city of Azrou, about 20 kilometers away by road, and slightly shorter the way we went. Don't let the distance fool you, though; I was nice and sore--not to mention muddy--after hiking nine hours uphill through the mud left by recent rains. The experience was definitely worth the pain, though: the scenery was absolutely gorgeous, and I had a lot of fun getting to know the other students and the guide. We hiked through mossy cedar forests (not what most people expect to see in Morocco, but no less beautiful for that) and through hilly farmland. We searched for Barbary apes, which live in the mountains here, but didn't see any; however, we did see a scorpion, a soft-water turtle, and lots of farm animals. If you're interested, I'll try to post more pictures from the hike on Facebook, but most of them don't have people in them (as usual) and don't seem to convey how beautiful everything actually was, so you'll just have to take my word for it.

More later. :)

(I was too tall for the doors in the sultan's palace at Dar Jamai)

Prepare yourselves, please, for what may be the longest blog entry yet recorded in history. I've been procrastinating setting this site up for the past two weeks, and consequently I have a lot of stories to tell. I apologize for my lack of brevity, but I do promise to be less long-winded in the future, should you ever be brave enough to venture back to this blog. In the meantime, sit back and adjust your internal clock to Moroccan time, where things happen just a bit more slowly....

Exactly two weeks ago today, I began my journey to the lovely land of Morocco. I hit the first proverbial bump in the road almost immediately upon arriving at the Dallas/Fort Worth airport, where I was asked to hand over my Moroccan residency VISA. This would have all been part of the routine, if only I'd had a VISA to give them. I stared open-mouthed at the woman helping me check in for my flight, uncertain about what to do next. I had been told by both the university in Morocco and by Ian Cosh--whom I consider master of all knowledge concerning global travel--that a VISA was unnecessary, but the folks at the airport had other ideas. Luckily, I had also booked a flight to France during Spring Break, which, since it split my stay in Morocco roughly in half, enabled me to squeeze past the VISA requirements and, somewhat shaky and much more nervous than before, I waved goodbye to my parents and passed through the security line.

Fast forward a day or so, past my loooong layover in Madrid, to my propeller-plane flight from Casablanca to Fez, where I met several other sleep-deprived but excited students traveling to Al Akhawayn. Despite our unreliable-looking airplane, we arrived without incident in Fez at about midnight. Well, almost without incident: my luggage took a detour at some point during my journey, but happily it, too, arrived safely in Fez several days later. From Fez, we rode with a group of student ambassadors to the university in Ifrane, about an hour away, then spent the next two days attempting to get over our jetlag. Thursday morning, our International Student Orientation began, and from Thursday until Sunday, we attended seminars and filled out paperwork, including the all-important residency forms which we all needed so as not to be deported. (Really.)

(the view from my dorm window in Ifrane)

Classes began Monday morning, and despite some hitches regarding the adding and dropping of courses, all went well. By this time, the exchange students had all become fairly close, and we were excited to meet new Moroccan friends as well. Culture differences aside, almost every person I've met here has been kind and hospitable, and in the first few days of school, I was invited to come visit multiple girls at their homes. In addition to the wonderful people, the food in Morocco has stolen my heart; I find myself wondering if it is possible to get tired of eating tajines or if I will continue to crave them every day for the rest of my life. Anyhow, classes have gone quite well--my Arabic professor in particular is excellent--and the town of Ifrane is beautiful, though cold. I am inexpressably thankful for long underwear during the wind and snow we've been having.

This past Saturday, I took a day trip with some friends to Meknes, a city located about an hour's drive northwest of Ifrane. The weather there was much nicer, and we had a great time exploring all the souks in the old medina, a sort of outdoor marketplace selling everything from slippers to strawberries. We also visited the Musee Dar Jamai, a sultan's palace-turned-museum, and the famous Mausoleum of Moulay Ismail. We also toured an underground prison which once housed Christian slaves, and drank Moroccan mint tea with the owner of a carpet souk. (It is a sign of hospitality here when shopkeepers offer you tea; this is not considered sketchy or inappropriate.) We concluded our Meknes adventure with a somewhat bewildering taxi ride home and a vow to come back and buy rugs later in the semester.

(the gates to the Mausoleum of Moulay Ismail)

(I really am almost done now, so bear with me...)

My final story to recount in this post is the only rough culture-shock experience I've had to date, which, oddly enough, occurred yesterday when I tried to do laundry. (First for the necessary background information...During our orientation, the OIP [Office of International Programs] gave us a student handbook, which apparently hasn't been updated in several key places, one of which is the info. about laundry services. There are two places on campus where you can do laundry, one self-service and one where they wash your clothes for you. There are separate tickets that you have to buy in order to do your laundry, and of course, since the self-service tickets were cheaper and the since the idea of someone else folding my laundry seemed strange, I bought them.) Yesterday afternoon, I lugged my laundry bag up to Building 36 to wash my clothes. Building 36 is a boys' dorm, and dorms are strictly segregated by sex (as in, I could be expelled just for going inside) so I was confused about the protocol for doing my laundry. I tried calling one of my friends who knew how the system worked, but she didn't answer, so I flagged down some boys who had their window open and interrogated them about where I could wash my stuff. Luckily, they very nicely directed me to the back of the building, where I could safely enter the laundry room without actually roaming the dorm halls, but the doors were locked. Apparently this was the room which was closed on Sundays, contrary to what I'd read in the handbook. Mildly put-out that I'd toted my heavy laundry bag around for ten minutes when the room that was open on that day was in the building I live in, I trudged back to Building 38.

Thoroughly confused about where I could actually use the tickets I'd bought, I asked the lady at the frond desk of my dorm where to go, and she made a call then kindly directed me downstairs. Relieved that I'd finally figured things out, I walked inside and handed over my tickets, only to find out that, contrary to what the woman at the front desk had been told, this was the place where they did your laundry for you, meaning I had the wrong tickets. The lady working in the laundry room, who spoke almost no English (and my French skills were unfortunately of zero help in terms of negotiating laundry services), directed me to two empty washing machines. After I shoved my clothes inside, she informed me (by a series of gestures with sporadic English words thrown in) that I had bought the wrong kind of laundry detergent. Of course, by this time the campus store was closing for the day, and my Moroccan cell phone conveniently chose that moment to run out of minutes, so I sprinted to a friend's room and borrowed her laundry detergent. The woman working in the laundry room laughed at me (I'm sure I seemed ridiculous and incompetent) and then proceeded to dump at least 1/3 of the box of detergent into each machine. (I am not exaggerating...it was literally spilling out the sides.) She accepted all six of the tickets I'd bought--almost $6 worth, which is VERY expensive considering that about $3.50 can buy you a nice meal--and told me to come back in the morning. (The handbook had listed the closing time as midnight, but it actually closed at 5, so my laundry had to stay overnight.) Embarrassed, sweating, and wondering whether I actually had a single clean pair of pants left to wear the next day, I headed back to my room nearly an hour after I'd originally left to wash my clothes. I was literally shaking, and had to lie down for a minute (which turned into half an hour, resulting in my missing the bus to church and consequently spending the rest of my evening doing homework in my room). Who would have thought washing clothes could be so difficult? At least the experience makes for a good story....more and more, I thank God for giving us all senses of humor.

Well, I think this post has been plenty long enough to satisfy any curiosity you may have had about my travels. I'll save the rest of my stories for later. :)